


Even The Darkest Night Will End and the Sun Will Rise

by thepeoplessong



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeoplessong/pseuds/thepeoplessong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my first ever fic! E/R are my biggest OTP ever and it's going to have a lot of chapters. Set in Edinburgh, AU fic in which Grantaire spends his summer in Edinburgh, and meets a lot of very special people.</p><p>Dedicated to Leah, the R to my E, Jo and Geo - my very own Amis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

As the whistle blew, Grantaire had just managed to slam the button on the doors of the train and leap onto the busy carriage. He had a large bag of hand luggage, mostly filled with sandwiches he’d hastily shoved together earlier that day. He’d had to wake up at 6am. This was definitely not an acceptable time for someone like Grantaire to get up at. He was used to falling asleep at this time most nights.

The doors shut behind Grantaire as he shuffled through the busy train, dragging his mini-suitcase behind him. His eyes darted throughout the first carriage, and to his luck, he saw a seat right next to the window. He shuffled a little faster, almost knocking over a small girl and apologising profusely to her mother, and made it to the seat. Grantaire pushed his suitcase into the overhead luggage area, flopped down onto the seat, rubbed his aching head, and sighed. It had been a stressful morning. He was just about to crack open his (now rather squished) jam sandwich, when a ticket was being thrust into his face and someone was talking very loudly to him.

“….And I booked it online so it can’t be wrong, I get this train every two weeks and I always get this seat, it is definitely mine.” finished the man. Grantaire hadn’t looked up yet, he was too busy having a ticket shoved under his nose and thinking _oh for gods sake i just sat down._

“I’m sorry, do you mean this is your seat?” he replied in the sweetest voice he could, “I’ll just-” Grantaire looked up.

The man had stopped talking, and had one arm stretched up, his hand leaning on the overhead luggage compartment. Golden curls fell down over his forehead, and he had a stern look on his slightly tanned face.

“I’ll just move, sorry.” Grantaire finished. He got out the seat and let the other man in. The man thanked him and bent over to put his small bag on the floor. Grantaire couldn’t help but notice the red t-shirt ride up a little as he did. The man straightened up and sat down, slamming his newspaper and coffee cup on the fold-down table. Grantaire reached up to retrieve his luggage from the compartment, and hesitated.

“Would you mind if I left this here?” he said to the man in his ex-seat, who was already deeply engrossed in his newspaper.

He gestured upwards and smiled slightly, without taking his eyes off the paper. Grantaire took this as a yes, and even if it wasn’t, the man seemed rather odd and rude, so he left it anyway, just to spite him.

Grantaire found a seat. Unfortunately, it was next to a very fat guy who smelled of garlic and took up most of the space. He played his music really loudly from his laptop, which had a picture of a blonde lady with very little clothing on as the background. Just as Grantaire sat down, the tannoy system crackled. “This train is for Aberdeen. We shall be stopping at-” Grantaire listened intently to make sure he really was on the right train - he didn’t want a repeat of last year’s trip to Cardiff, he’d never forgive Eponine for that one. - and thank God, there it was, Edinburgh. He grabbed his phone off the small table and texted Eponine, his good friend who was studying Law at Edinburgh university.

_Just leaving now, will be about 5 hours. You better be there to meet me, I want a movie-style entrance to this ‘PURE MENTAL’ city of yours. R x_

With a bit of a start, the train chugged out of the station. They passed the outskirts of London, and that was when Grantaire’s mind started to wander. After some wandering on what the bloody hell he drank last night, and ugh why he didn’t eat more before it, and if the Scots were really as mental as Ep had said, his mind finally settled on the man whose seat he had accidentally taken. He really was rather attractive. ‘Taire wondered where the man was going, and if he was a Londoner. Was he going back home to some other city? What was his name? Maybe he was going all the way to Aberdeen, wow that would be a long journey. How would he pass the time on a journey that long? He stopped himself from thinking about this man. He was a stranger anyway, he didn’t matter.

Grantaire managed to think himself to sleep. He dreamt of train platforms of strangers, everyone getting on different trains, and a head of golden curls in every window he looked through. He woke somewhere around York. How long till he got to Edinburgh? How long until he actually crossed the border to Scotland? Man, he wished he’d payed attention in geography back at school. Well, he liked the subject enough, but just couldn’t be arsed doing any of the work…as usual. He checked his phone, and there was a message from Eponine.

_Fine, I’ll meet you. Sorry I won’t have a film crew for your movie-style entrance. I’m sure you’ll cope. Ep xox_

He replied with _no film crew? i’m off home to get a drink. see you then girl;)_ He had just pressed send and looked up when a tall figure came striding through the carriage. It was the man whose seat he’d been in. He was talking quietly on the phone.

“yeah ok, meet me at the station? Oh alright I’ll go out the side exit. Hang on i can’t hear you, let me move to-” he said.

he walked to the end of the carriage and stood there on the phone for a bit. Grantaire got the chance to study him. The man was tall and slim, but not skinny, more muscular. He wore a red fitted t-shirt and incredibly tight jeans and _man look at those legs and that_ \- Grantaire stopped himself and shifted his eyes upwards to the man’s face. He was laughing now, and he had a gorgeous smile that made his eyes shine a little, visible from even from a few metres back. The man put his phone in his pocket and walked back through the carriage. he caught Grantaire’s eye on the way past, and gave a small smile. It could have been a smirk, the way he lowered his eyes. But it was a smile, nonetheless. Grantaire thought. A smile, a _really attractive sexy smile._

When Grantaire figured there was around 20 minutes to go, he stood up and went to get his luggage from his old seat. A slight excitement bubbled in his chest at the thought of going to see this guy again. He got to the seat and smiled at the man, and said “Just gonna get my-” and pulled it down from the compartment. The man smiled back.

Grantaire could have sworn those eyes stayed fixed on his for longer than a stranger’s should.

The tannoy system finally crackled for the last time. “We are now approaching Edinburgh.” It said. Grantaire stood up, stuffed his phone in his pocket and dragged his luggage to the door of the train. When it finally screeched to a halt, the doors opened with a _shoooochk_ , and Grantaire stepped off the train, minding the gap, just as the annoying as fuck voice told him to.

And there, with a beaming smile on her face, arms in the air waving madly, was Eponine! No film crew unfortunately, but nonetheless, there was his best friend, looking great as ever. Eponine had managed, somehow, to stay tanned in this dull weather, and her dark hair had grown and now swished behind her as she ran to meet her friend. “TAAAIIRRE!!!” she yelled as ran into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Oh Ep i’ve missed you too!” Grantaire replied in his finest - but not really - Scottish accent.

“How was the journey?” Ep asked while they walked through the station to the exit. “Pretty boring, sat next to a man who stank of garlic and shit, managed to get to level 53 on Angry Birds. Not too eventful.” Eponine smiled and rolled her eyes at the gamer guy she’d known for years. ”Managed to take some guy’s seat, in the beginning, i hope he wasn’t getting off here, he’ll probably come for me. Seemed like a bit of a nutcase” Grantaire lied - just as a flash of red and a head of golden curls rushed past them and out the side exit of the station.


	2. Chapter 2 - The City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Edinburgh sees the arrival of Grantaire, and Grantaire sees the arrival of Eponine's brilliant friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this straight after the first. Chapter 3 will be written soon!

Grantaire’s first day in Edinburgh was spent strolling along Princes Street, the main shopping street in the city. It really was a gorgeous place. Where else in the UK can you come out of a Starbucks, walk along to an Urban Outfitters and have a castle straight across the road from you? So many old buildings and tiny winding streets to discover, and so many brilliant looking pubs. Grantaire would definitely be spending a lot of time in them. It would be great to spend a whole summer here. Maybe the weather might even stay dry!

After a long day of walking up and down the city, they reached Eponine’s flat. She lived on the top floor of a flat in Bristo Place, in an area of the city with loads of flats and small coffee shops, completely infested with students.

“It’s not much, but it’s home for now.” Eponine sighed, “I’m looking for flatmates. My friends Ellora and Cosette would be good, and Clara’s obviously trying to get in on a free home.” Ep’s sister was always one for finding a bargain.

The flat had two bedrooms, each with double beds. Eponine’s bedroom was a weird olive colour which she clearly hated, having covered it up with posters of obscure bands Grantaire had never heard of and loads of old embarrassing photographs from through the years - even a painting Grantaire had done for her hung up on the wall above the bed. The other room had peeling wallpaper, a creaky door with a lock, stains of some sort of drink on the carpet and an old battered wardrobe.

However, there was one special thing about this room. Grantaire walked over to this amazing feature and gasped. A huge bay window overlooked the streets of the city, and you could see Edinburgh Castle and the rest of the centre of town, gleaming in the evening sun.

“Come with me!” Eponine beamed, grabbing hold of Grantaire’s hand. She threw open the window and swung a leg over. She climbed slowly out, onto the roof, and disappeared from sight.

 _Fucks sake, this girl_ , thought Grantaire, following her out the window. Eponine may be a little crazy, but he trusted her whole-heartedly for a good adventure. He followed his old friend up the roof carefully, and saw that she was making for a flat ledge. When he made it there, Grantaire adjusted himself so he was safe on the roof, and looked up to where Eponine was pointing.

“ _Wow_ “ Grantaire stared out in awe. Before him, was the whole city of Edinburgh, glowing in the daylight, each and every church spire towering up into the sky, each and every building seeming beautiful in its own way. Each and every person on the street seemed tiny, insignificant because they weren’t experiencing the beauty that he and Eponine could see right now. This would definitely be a scene to paint while he was here.

A few hours later, after a mountain of cheesy pasta, Eponine suggested they go out. Grantaire never said no to going out, and _fuuuuck_ he needed a drink after the long day he’d had. Well, he said he needed a drink, but maybe 10 might do the trick.

They ambled across the meadows; a massive stretch of grass that apparently takes you anywhere in the city if you walk across it, and reached a pub called Doctors. Ep explained it was where all the medical students ended up on a friday night, and it was there usual spot for a good night. Grantaire smiled to himself at this. He knew the Scots could show him a right good time. 

The two sat down at a table in the pub and had the best catchup of their lives. Eponine raved and ranted about university life; the people, the parties, woah, the parties, the guys (wow, their accents), the city, the sex, the utter hell of Law school, her high school crush, Marius, who ended up studying journalism at Edinburgh (“it’s totally ruined my life!”) and of course, the insane people she’s become friends with. Eponine’s life sure seemed to have taken a turn up the way since she’d been here.

Grantaire talked to her about how god damn awful it is studying art in London, but how great it is that there’s so much to do in such a massive city, and how there’s more attractive men in the university than he even knew existed, and how he found a bar that is EVEN cheaper than the one they’d sneaked into when they were 16 and got chucked out of at 3am. When Eponine left to go to the bathroom, Grantaire thought about how much everything had changed in the last two years. They’d been at school and now look at their lives.

  
He was saved from thinking too deeply about everything by Ep’s phone buzzing on the table. It was a text from someone called Courfeyrac.

  
_Hey! We’ll be there at 9. Hope your friend is up for a right good time. If he’s anything like our dear Eponine he must be;) Courf x_

  
Grantaire put the phone back down and waited for Eponine. As she arrived back to the table, he handed her her phone.

  
“Text from someone i can’t pronounce” he said absent-mindedly.

  
“Oh, that’ll be Courfeyrac. I may have invited a bunch of my friends to come meet you.” she saw Grantaire’s grimace at the thought of chatting to new people soberly. “And yes, they all will drink as much as you and love you a lot and you’ll all become good friends yes great the end.” Grantaire laughed and watched her reply to Courfeyrac.

  
“He says he’s bringing is friend Enjolras. At least there’ll be two new faces on the block then!” she smiled.

  
Nine O’clock came and went, and at around half past, the door opened and the bell rang, and a bunch of loudly chattering people came through the door. Grantaire watched and smiled as they waved at Ep, and hugs and smiles happened all round.

  
Eponine’s friends seemed just as crazy as her, and scottish accents flew around everywhere. Thee were three boys, four girls. One of the girls was small and dainty, hanging onto a tall and slim guy’s hand. Grantaire had met the man before, of course, this was Marius, the one who he may have almost punched in the jaw a few times after breaking Eponine’s heart unintentionally. Still, Marius was a good guy, and he’d got himself a very pretty girl named Cosette. Then there was Combeferre, a tall man with hair that fell down flat over his face, and a big warm smile that could make the sun shine oth even the dreariest Edinburgh days. Combeferre was ‘the nice guy’ of the group, according to Eponine. He was laughing around with Eponine and her sister, Clara, who had known ‘Ferre from their drama society. Clara flung her arms around Grantaire when she saw him, because of course, she was like a sister to him too. Another girl appeared before him, with a blue summer dress and a voice like an angel that carried through the pub. This was Ellora. She seemed very timid when she first said hello, but well, Grantaire was later to find she was a riot after a few drinks! Then, the last two men sat down next to Grantaire. After all the introductions, Grantaire had already forgotten half the names, nevermind how to pronounce them, and the man on his left side was apparently called Courfeyrac.

  
“Ah, you’re the one we’re all jealous of then, Eh? I’m Courfeyrac. Wanted to live in London my whole life! What’s it like? Have you met the queen yet? Seen any famous people? I once saw Adele in a Starbucks, how weird is that!” Courfeyrac was a very chatty person. Very. He seemed so chatty and nice that Grantaire, quite rudely, hadn’t even turned to his right to see who his last person to meet was! Eventually, he turned around to introduce himself again.

“Hey I’m Grantai-“

A flurry of golden curls whipped around to face him, and dark blue eyes lit up as the man smiled.

“Grantaire. Hi! You’re the guy from the-“

  
“Enjolras. Glad you’re not in my seat this time!” the man chuckled. _Wow, that smile._

Grantaire drank. Grantaire thought. He drank and thought and talked and drank and talked until everyone was happy and merry, chatting like they had known each other since the beginning of time. Jokes bounced round the room, and Grantaire felt so at home with other people that could drink just as much as him, even if it didn’t include standing on tables and singing musical numbers. Courfeyrac may have broken the standing-on-tables rule, but he let Cosette sing while he mimed the words, having everyone doubled over with laughter at a tiny high voice coming from a buff guy like Courf. Combeferre managed to drink the strangest cocktail on the list while Clara filmed him pretending to be on a cookery show, and Eponine had stolen Marius’ phone and managed to get onto his facebook, posting some rather hilarious statuses. All in all, everyone was pissed as hell and enjoying life to the full.

Enjolras, however, didn’t seem to drink as much as the others. Of course Grantaire noticed this (though he had kind of lost count of his own drinks around 11pm), and he went to chat to Enjolras.

“I notice you’ve been sipping on that for about an hour now. You not a heavy drinker like this lot then?” Grantaire managed to slur out. It was hard enough making well structured sentences at this stage of intoxication, never mind when there was a godly looking man in front of him.

“Nah, i like to have a good time though obviously. I’ve got a dissertation on 19th Century French Politics to start tomorrow.”

“Oh, cool.” was all Grantaire managed to get out his mouth. For one, he didn’t know a single thing about 19th Century France, and also, he had a slight desire to get this man out of his shirt.

The night went on. They left the bar late, but the air was still warm (“what the fuck is this heatwave up to, I feel like I’m in Kenya!” Combeferre had exclaimed) so they trekked through the streets and ended up on the meadows again. A group of nine, they stolled in groups, stumbling and laughing like children in a play park.

Grantaire walked with Marius and Combeferre while Marius did impressions of a really old professor of his. While laughing at this, he felt a tap on his shoulder and looked behind him.

“So you’re a Londoner too?” It was Enjolras.

“Um, yeah. Well, originally from Norfolk but London called me up and wanted me to come over for a bit.”

Enjolras laughed and that smile occurred again, sending butterflies through Grantaire’s stomach.

“Are you up staying with Ellora then?” he asked, knowing full well that the other man was staying with Courfeyrac. He had a tactical way of asking his question though.

“Nah, I’m with Courf, we went to school together! Great guy.”

“Oh, sorry, I just assumed you and ‘Lora were together” Grantaire laughed. His plan may have worked. He really shouldn’t hope for the answer that came next, but my god he really did when he got a full look at Enjolras.

“Oh, no, I don’t really look out for the girls if you know what I mean. Haha.” Enjolras laughed nervously and looked down, hoping his new friend wouldn’t find that awkward.

“Oh? Yeah, same, never been one to love the ladies” Grantaire laughed, suppressing the pang of delight that had suspiciously appeared in his chest. _Good_ , he thought, _that means I’m allowed to think of you in the way I may have been for the past three hours._

Enjolras looked down at his feet, but this time he didn’t look embarrassed or nervous. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and a glint in his eye.

Around 3am, the friends became tired and decided it was time to call it a day. It had gotten colder and the chat had died out by half two. Combeferre had fallen asleep by a tree, and Clara had stayed with him until he woke up. Meanwhile, the others all went their separate ways from the edge of the meadows.

“Well, see you sometime soon then?” Enjolras said to Grantaire.

“Yeah sure, I’m here all summer. I’ll probably be getting paler by the minute if it’s as cold as this.” he laughed.

“Well, I hope I see more of you.” Enjolras smiled. “Later, R.”

Eponine and Grantaire linked arms and set off for her flat. Ep was going on and on about how utterly brilliant Marius was, but well, Grantaire wasn’t really listening. He looked over his shoulder to see Courfeyrac skipping - yes, skipping - down the empty road, and Enjolras walking behind, shaking his head. Enjolras turned to look behind him and gave Grantaire a small wave.

 _I hope to see more of you_ he had said. Grantaire couldn’t help but wonder if Enjolras actually meant he hoped to see Grantaire more… or hoped to see _more_ of Grantaire. And Enjolras winked and laughed. _winked and laughed._

Well, Grantaire hoped so too.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry I haven't written in so long. Chapter 4 coming VERY soon! :D

Grantaire thought about Enjolras almost constantly over the next few days.

His sketchbook was filled with shades of red and gold, looking regal, rich and glowing on the plain pages. He drew single large blue eyes with long lashes, and smiles with creases at the sides. Each and every drawing had resemblance to the gorgeous man he had met a few days ago, even if only the tiniest resemblance. 

Once, on a mild Wednesday afternoon, he sat on his window ledge and looked over the city. He felt the cool breeze through his curls and on his sketcbook, holding them down from the wind with a large paperclip. He looked at his watch and found that he’d been sitting for over an hour trying to draw the same face over and over again. He just couldn’t capture Enjolras’ beauty in all its wonder. He couldn’t remember it clearly enough, each crease by the man’s eyes, each freckle on his fine cut cheeks. This frustrated Grantaire. After a few more half hearted attempts, he gave up on drawing Enjolras. 

Grantaire ripped out the page and crumpled it up in his free hand. He’d never get it right. He could always draw things beautifully and why was drawing Enjolras any different?! He threw the paper out into the sky, where it got caught by the wind for a second, then fell to the ground. 

Grantaire swung his leg back over the ledge and through the window, into his room, and lay down on his bed to rest his mind from the frustration of art. 

 

 

Meanwhile, a tall man in a large hoodie strode out of the museum across the road from Eponine’s (and Grantaire’s, for the time being) flat. A file slung under one arm and a bag full of papers over his shoulder, he seemed in a frantic hurry to reach wherever he was walking. As he walked quickly, he felt a  _scruncchhh_ under his foot. He glanced at the thing he’d stood on as he walked briskly on, but then stopped. It was a ball of paper, and it seemed clean, new on the ground, and he saw tints of red and gold shining from it. 

Although he wouldn’t usually, he looked around to see if anyone saw him, and stopped to pick it off the ground. He used his free hand to try to flatten the paper out against his jeans, and looked at it. 

Drawings. Four faces all looking at different angles out to the world, with big blue eyes, and golden locks falling to his ears. A huge smile in two of the beautifully drawn pictures. Had the drawings been of a stranger, he would have put the paper back on the ground waiting for the artist to realise he’d dropped his work - these drawings really must have taken some time with the detail in them - and moved on with his life. There was one difficulty in doing this though.

The drawings were of him. 

 

 

Grantaire could hear Eponine singing from her room as she did her hair. She had a soft voice, so even though R was frustrated with art and tired of frustration, he didn’t mind her voice echoing through to his room. 

“Oi, R, wake up! We’re going for lunch.” 

“Ep, it’s 4pm. What.”

“Yeah but we woke up at like 11, so it sort of equates to lunch time.”

“I already ate two lunches.” Grantaire confessed shamelessly.

“Well you’re getting another.” Eponine said, her tone similar to that of an annoyed mother.

Grantaire really wasn’t too bothered about having a third lunch.

Eponine and Grantaire got themselves sorted and left the flat to go to a small Swedish cafe for lunch. Eponine seemed to know her way around, and really had an eye for the good places to go. As they walked down the lane to the cafe, the two friends shared Grantaire’s earphones to listen to their favourite band, and they stood outside the cafe waiting to hear the end of the song before they opened the large glass door into the modern cafe. They slouched into two big armchairs ad the table furthest away from the door, and Eponine ordered them some swedish bread thing. Grantaire was happy with that, because there was no way in hell he was pronouncing any of the things on the menu.

The two friends talked for a while, and when their conversation came to a comfortable silence, Grantaire settled his gaze out the large glass window that covered the front of the cafe. Several strangers went past, strolling along the path to go to the meadows, the route centre of the city. People on bikes, people walking dogs, people handing out leaflets. The city was bustling. And then, he saw it.

A flurry of golden curls and a splash of red passed the window.

Grantaire’s heart lurched (why? why did it do that?) and he quickly said to Eponine in his most casual voice, “So, have you ever met that Enjolras guy before?”

“Yeah, he comes up to stay at Courf’s quite a bit. Some weird group of anti-government people he’s in is based here, I don’t really know the details.” 

“Mm.” was all R managed to say, even though there were so many questions on his mind that he didn’t really know how to word to sound uninterested. 

“Yes he does fancy you.” Eponine suddenly said without looking up.

“What? Where did that come from?!” Grantaire almost spat out his coffee.

“Well you were clearly going to ask! And I maaaaay have seen your recent drawings. And you maaaay have checked him out like 15 times the other day.” 

“Yeah, okay, brilliant. But what does that- where did - do you think he likes me?”

“Well he was talking to you like he’d known you for years, and he’s not one for talking to new people, unless it’s about recruiting them into his world-changing band of students.” Eponine said this rather sarcastically - clearly she didn’t have faith in that side of Enjolras. 

“yeah but-“ 

“Just go see him for gods sake! He’s likely to be in the Starbucks a few doors down, on his way back from the Wednesday meeting. Go check.  _I dare you, Grantaire.”_

Well, that did it. A dare? Grantaire was the  _champion_ at dares. He would never be beaten by Eponine when they were younger, and some of the crazy things she dared him to do were probably illegal. (He had once done a superhero-esque jump from one rooftop to another when they were 15, and it had ended rather spectacularly with Eponine’s mother seeing it and screaming at them a while after.) 

Grantaire winked at Eponine as he slung his jacked under his arm and turned to walk out the door.

“I’ll keep you updated.” he called to her, as the glass door shut behind him.

Grantaire looked left and right, and saw the Starbucks a few doors to his left. He exhaled loudly and sauntered up the road, using his side to open the heavy door.

He could almost hear his heart beating - why was he so nervous? All he had to do was just  _talk_ to Enjolras. What’s hard about that? He did a quick scan of the room. No red. No golden curls. No stack of books anywhere. Grantaire’s heart sank. He’d gotten nervous for nothing, and now he was already at the till in the queue so there was no way of going back without buying something.

“Hi there, can I get you any drinks?” asked the girl at the counter. 

“Um, a medium espresso please.” replied Grantaire, not really knowing what he was ordering. He fumbled in his pocket for some money as the cashier wrote down his order on the side of the cup, and looked up suddenly when he heard a man’s voice behind him. 

“Make that two, please, to go.” 

The man behind Grantaire was smiling at him. This man was Enjolras.


	4. Chapter 4 - Paintable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this problem in that I now look at the window ledge in a different way than I described in the first chapter. So, keep imagining it as you do, but it might seem a little different in my descriptions later on. I'll try my best to keep it the same as it was in chapter 1!   
> Happy reading! The next chapter will be up soon. :D

"So why did you end up in my Starbucks?" Enjolras asked after a large gulp of coffee.

" _Your_ Starbucks?" Grantaire laughed. "Well, I was along the street with Eponine and-" he blushed "-well she said you might be there."

Enjolras didn't say anything, but he smiled as he looked at his feet. It was so unusual seeing him look almost embarrassed - his usual demeanour was so confident and sure of himself. 

The two men walked over the meadows for a while, chatting and laughing about Edinburgh, their friends, and of course Enjolras couldn't help slipping in intellectual comments about his work. Grantaire didn't really understand these most of the time,  but he nodded along anyway, for he didn't want to disagree with someone as brilliant - and gorgeous - as Enjolras. 

They sat down on a raised patch of grass and silently took in the sunshine. Enjolras was abnormally comfortable with the silence, even though he'd only met Grantaire a few days before. He didn't feel his usual need to be the one speaking, or to be the leader, or to sound clever, or even to get back to his all-important work. He was just comfortable sitting with this man, and although he didn't know why, he liked it. Enjolras surveyed Grantaire's face as he watched something in the distance. The sun shone down into his dark curls and he leaned back on his arms, revealing a long and pale neck to the sky. Enjolras couldn't help but stare - the other man had a pretty good physique, and was smaller than him and quite stocky in comparison. Enjolras quickly snapped his gaze away for fear that Grantaire might see him staring. 

"Hey Grantaire -"

"Please, call me R." Grantaire interrupted with a smile. 

"Ah, ok, well, earlier, the weirdest event happened." He looked over to R to see if he seemed interested, and carried on. "I was walking out the museum earlier - we're due to start historical politics next semester and I wanted to get a head start - anyway, there was this bit of paper on the ground, and I picked it up to find all these really well drawn portraits of...guess who?" He gestured majestically to himself with a confused look on his face.

Grantaire's heart almost burst out of his chest and ripped through his shirt, and his stomach fell about 6 feet. 

"Oh...really? Woah, that's...wow!" was all Grantaire could say.

"Yep! So peculiar." Enjolras went to fumble in his bag which was next to Grantaire's hand. 

 _I've never been one for risks, but he's just..._ Enjolras' heart (and dick) was ruling his head right now, and somehow, somewhere in his brain, some stupid impulse decided it was going to reach out his arm and touch Grantaire's hand.

Which he did. His usually orginised and perfectly stressed out brain split into a thousand thoughts which made his stomach lurch in a  _whythefuckdidyoujustdothatohmygod_ sort of way. He got his phone out the bag and checked the time, then looked up at Grantaire. It wasn't surprising that he could still manage to look calm, even with a brain and stomach feeling as frantic as they were now - but that was all part of Enjolras' nature.

Grantaire was smiling at him.  _Well, now's the time to ask_ , thought Enjolras.

He took a deep breath and said "You're an art student aren't you?"

Grantaire was utterly petrified of what was coming, but it was more his answer he was afraid of. And  _fuck why didn't I take a drink before I came out_ was the only thing on his stressed-out mind. His words failed. He nodded in reply to the other man's question.

"Did you draw those pictures of me?" Enjolras was straight to the point. 

"Um, kinda. Yeah. Yes. But there's ones of everyone like I drew Eponine and Combeferre and Cosette's hair and the view from Ep's window and stuff it's not just you I'm not creepy I promise hahahaha-" he realised he sounded a little manic. He just really  _really_  wanted to impress Enjolras, and he wasn't exactly an impressive person, so he figured that not-being-unimpressive was the best he could do.

"You're extremely talented _._ " Enjolras said with a secure nod.

Grantaire just stared. This godly figure had just called him talented.  _Talented._

He kept his eyes on Enjolras until the other man broke the gaze. "Well, I better get back to this historical politics thing." Enjolras said quickly as he stood up.

"Wait!" Grantaire said, not really knowing specifically what he wanted Enjolras to wait for. "Um, look, Enjolras, I'm not one for words, but I've only been here a few days and you're really...you're really...paintable."

_You utter twat. You just called Enjolras 'paintable.'_

"Thanks, I guess" Enjolras replied, and he left with a small smile.

\--------

"He just left?!" Eponine cried, snuggling into Grantaire and stuffing her hand back into the bag of crisps. 

"Yep. Not a word." Grantaire replied, pulling the duvet up to his neck.

"Well, you did call him paintable." Eponine said, stifling a laugh. 

The two friends looked at each other and absolutely burst out laughing. 

"I'm such a lost cause!" R wheezed while opening another can of lager. The two were good for each other like this. They could easily laugh at each other and themselves, and be there for each other at the same time.

A few hours (and a few drinks) later, Eponine declared that she needed to get some sleep or she'd collapse at work the next day. She left Grantaire's room with a kiss on his cheek, and Grantaire went to sit on his window ledge to look over the city. 

It was a cold night. Around 2am, the city wasn't busy with traffic anymore, but the slight whirr of cars could be heard from his flat. He looked down at the roads below him and sighed, sipping on his beer.  _Man, I really fucked up that one,_ he thought, recalling the conversation with Enjolras, and the way he'd just left. 

And then it happened. The door of the museum library creaked open below him, and out came a tired, slouched, less fantastic version of Enjolras, carrying a shitload of papers.

It was like an impulse. Grantaire didn't care that he'd called Enjolras paintable, because  _by fuck_ , he really was. In that moment, all he could see was Enjolras touching his hand, and the smile that had appeared with it. So, without thinking about it, he called down.

"Enjolras!" the man below looked around to see where his called was. "Enjolras!" Grantaire called a little louder.

Enjolras looked up and grinned a tired grin up at the other man.

"What are you doing up at this time?" he called up to Grantaire.

"What are you doing in a  _library_ at this time?" Grantaire joked.

"Come down here." Enjolras said, sounding a little more awake.

"Ugh, you really want me to actually move from here?" R called, speaking remarkably clearly for his excitement and surprise at Enjolras being so keen to talk to him. Swinging his legs back into the room, he shut the window and ran downstairs to meet Enjolras in the dead of night.

 


	5. Chapter 5 - The Good Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am beyond sorry at the fact it's taken me like a year to update this. This chapter is a bit of a filler, and chapter six is soon, I promise!

Grantaire pulled his boots on and ran down the stairs, walking down the last few steps so he didn’t seem too eager to meet Enjolras.

He opened the door and Enjolras was waiting on his left, arms folded, leaning against the wall. He returned Grantaire’s smile with tired eyes to match.

"Um, fancy a walk? I mean, well, like, only if you want to cause it’s late and you’ve been working and yeah." Grantaire stumbled,

"Yeah sure, I guess I can stay for a bit longer…" Enjolras replied

The two men walked round the corner to the university, and sat down on a bench. Enjolras had told Grantaire all about his historical politics module and how most of it was on the French Revolution, and how he was so annoyed that some people STILL got it mixed up with the June Rebellion. This was something R could talk about, having studied the June Rebellion at school and loved it. Enjolras seemed so glad that Grantaire could join in with his keenness, but then a sense of guilt came over him.

"Sorry, I’ve been talking so much about all this." he looked at his hands. Enjolras never usually felt so conscious of what other people would think of his work, as people were usually so enthusiastic to listen. Grantaire made him more conscious of the feelings. Was it because he cared about Grantaire’s interest in him? He couldn’t tell. He was unsure of himself. It was such an odd feeling. 

"What? No!" Grantaire exclaimed. "No, I like it, it's fine, it's cool honestly I don't mind."

"Nah, really, I'll stop. Tell me more about you. I feel like I've talked too much." Enjolras just seemed so flat, having realised how engrossed he was in his work all the time. The least he could do was ask Grantaire about his life.

What could Grantaire reply? Art. He did art. He did art and he drank and that's all people really cared about. But this was Enjolras, so he had to say more. Plus, he didn't even know about the drinking. 

"I do fencing and I play guitar." he said bluntly. It wasn't enough, he knew it. 

"Woah, fencing? That's a cool one!"

Grantaire just couldn't believe it was 2am, and here he was sitting with Enjolras, who thought he was cool. And talanted. 

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a bit, taking in the cool air. 

"So, Courf's a right laugh isn't he." Grantaire said, trying to break the silence. 

"Yeah, known him for years. He's a right good guy. Jehan just got back from visiting his parents in Paris, so naturally Courf is re-smitten, if that's a good way to put it." 

"Jehan?"

"The flowery one with the long red hair? You might have seen him on Marius' facebook. He's as poetic as you are artistic." 

"Ah yeah! The flowery guy. I know who you mean."

It was two in the morning, and Grantaire was itching to just spill his life story to Enjolras and just to run his hands through his hair, and he hardly cared about politics or the flowery guy or fencing when Enjolras was in front of him.

Grantaire felt his cheeks flare red and Enjolras smiled warmly at him.

"You're a good guy, Grantaire." Enjolras admitted quite bluntly. "But i really should get home. See you soon." He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his folders and gave R a quick wave, and walked briskly away.

Before Grantaire had the chance to say much else, Enjolras was out of sight, round the corner, and an empty feeling had lodged itself in Grantaire's stomach. _That was sudden_ , he thought, trudging back to Eponine's flat, with a mind full of golden curls and a beautiful smile. 


End file.
